There Is a Light That Never Goes Out
by MsSchneeheide
Summary: They were driving in the night. And then suddenly... and then, the light just didn't go out. Inspired by the Smiths' song. First part of the ideal P*ssy Music series.


**_Author's note:_**

**This is part 1 of the P*ssy Music series.**

**Just like Flaca, I do love the Smiths. Go listen to their song, it's a beautiful, suspended, sad dreamy marvellous thing.**

**.**

* * *

The light got nearer and nearer, fast, blinding, overpowering.

It was all over and their eyes closed instinctively at the last second; but afterwards, the headlights were still on.

* * *

Take me out tonight.

She had asked and she had said yes, of course. After some prying.

9.03 _Sup?_

9.03 _I just gotta go out_

9.04 _You OK?_

_..._

9.06 _Flac?_

9.07 _?_

_Driin. Driiiin._

Flaca zipped up her leather jacket and grabbed the phone again, after it had stopped ringing.

9.09 _Sorry to bother you_

9.09 _Wait!_

9.10 _'s OK, I'm leaving now_

9.10 _I'm coming, just wait_

Maritza had already been driving, luckily, having just left Juliana at a friend's for a sleepover, or she wouldn't have gotten there that quickly.

Even so, she found Flaca walking a few hundred meters away from her house; she screeched to a halt, recognizing the figure by her movements only as she was passing by.

"Hey!" she called from the car. "Flaca."

The other girl raised her head, lowered the hood and gave a faint smile.

"Hey," she greeted her, getting into the passenger seat.

Maritza took a good look at her friend. Her eyes were kinda red and she seemed really distraught; she frowned.

"Flaca, what happened?"

Turning to look out the window, "Sorry for disturbing you," she murmured. "I know it's late an' all-"

"It's alright," Maritza said. "I just got worried."

"Sorry," Flaca repeated. "Listen, you better go home to Juli and..."

"She's at Gloria and Elena's, how d'you think I came here this fast mh?"

"Oh."

They stayed in silence some more moments.

"I fought with my mom."

Oh. "Sorry." Maritza didn't have a great relationship with her own mother, but she knew Flaca loved hers and they were quite close. "You, hm, wanna talk about it?"

"Not really, not right now."

"OK," she nodded. "So you wanted to go out?"

"Yeah."

"Fine. Let's go then," she started the car again, and off they went.

XXX

There was music and it wasn't even all bad. There were people, some were their friends, and many more they didn't know, and they were not all young but certainly everybody was very much alive. _They_ were, especially, after years inside and all that had followed; they just wanted to celebrate life now, it was like a physical need.

Diablo's band was playing, Blanca was behind the counter serving drinks and handed them another round of shots.

"Cheers chicas!" Maria raised her tequila, and everyone echoed.

"Last one for me!" Maritza announced. Blanca's eyebrow rose interrogatively; she had only had two. "Gotta drive."

They went back to dancing, Flaca, Maritza, Daya and Zirconia.

It was fun, the girls knew how to have a good time. Flaca had had a few more drinks, her cheeks looked rosy and she seemed generally ten times happier than before as she spun her round and they laughed.

"You got great moves when you're tipsy Flac," she teased.

"Heyy!" she stopped indignant, but let herself be dragged to the bar, where Maritza put a glass of water in her hands. "Take this, you'll thank me tomorrow."

"Uhm," she complied.

Flaca still hadn't explained what the matter was, but she hadn't pried; she knew when not to. They stayed some more.

* * *

_A few hours before_

"Well I think it's hot," Marco said. "Ugh, I mean not with _you_ though," he added horrified.

"Oh, shut up," Flaca told her brother. "Mom?" she tried. "Mamá?"

Theresa was still quiet, sat at the kitchen table.

"Por favor, díme algo," she begged.

She blinked, opened her mouth; closed it again. Stood up, and left the room.

The siblings exchanged a glance; he shrugged.

Flaca stood up too and went to follow her mother. She was in the living/sewing room, taking a piece of cloth from the chest, bringing it to the sewing machine, then moved to the drawer and started going through her threads, selected one, took a step, changed her mind, chose another-

"Mami," her eyes were following her back and forth.

She stopped, her back to her daughter. "Marisol." Flaca saw that the nice organza was creasing, from where her mom's hand must be gripping it tightly.

"Lo siento, sé que no esperabas oír esto, pero..." she wasn't stupid, she knew this wasn't her mother's number one dream of course, still she wanted to tell her...

"Marisol!" more creases.

"Quería decirtelo mamá, 'cause it's important to me and I love you and-"

"iBasta ya!" Theresa turned with glistening eyes, which made Flaca's heart shatter a bit. "No entiendo. Who did this to you? You were not like this!"

_D__ing dong_. The door.

"Marco!" Theresa yelled.

"I know it's hard to understand but I'm still me! It's just a, a part of me okay, and-"

"It was one of your prison friends mh?" she continued. "Which was it, is it... No, don't tell me, I don't wanna know," she stopped her with a gesture.

"Mom, please," Flaca's voice trembled. "It's got nothing to do with no one, it's only me."

"Mija, you've been out only a few months and you've been working at the café of that Gloria woman, and studying nights, and helping me here..." she listed. "You should see some of your other friends more, what about your old novio Ian?" Theresa asked.

Flaca rolled her eyes. "It was high school, I was a kid. What I feel now is completely different and-"

"What you feel? What d'you think you feel mh? You said there is no one, and now you say..."

"Mom, it's señora Martínez," Marco's head appeared at the door.

"Mamá..." Flaca stepped towards her.

"I'm coming," she told her son. "Marisol, I don't have time for this now," she breathed deeply, and went out.

* * *

Her bestie had a car and was driving; she loved it.

It was well after midnight, or maybe even one or something.

"I don't want to go home," she whispered.

"OK. That's fine."

Maritza got her so well.

Driving in her car they went on, anywhere, don't care, don't care.

She would bring her to her place or they would stop somewhere else maybe, or not, just go on.

Home didn't feel like home right now.

Maritza drove fast, this was how she liked it; at this time of night the streets were large and mostly empty, and lighted by so many lights. She watched the city passing by from the window, the other cars, the high buildings, streetlamps.

They were silent.

Flaca turned, the other was focused on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel, gaze steady, jaw squared; she was angry, for her. Though she knew nothing. She was beautiful.

She looked on; her chest expanded with a weight on it, something was in her throat. She felt like crying. From sadness, from joy; from love.

It hadn't gone well, and she hadn't felt good staying home after the talk.

A double-decker bus was waiting at a traffic light, and they drove past it.

She remembered the song.

The day had hurt, but this was heavenly.

Into an underpass they went. She looked again.

The night, the speed, the lights... her closeness; their eyes met for an instant, and it made her startle. How could this be wrong, when it felt so wonderful; and she didn't want anything in exchange, she could stay like this forever really, it was enough – maybe if she could just say it...

Flaca's mouth opened of its own device; words were on her tongue; but they were afraid, and stayed in her mind, and nothing came out.

This was her place, this was her home. The car had slowed down.

The left hand stayed on the steering wheel, the right one was moving towards her own, and they barely touched...

She saw Maritza's eyes widen, the hand flashed back to the wheel; a ten-ton truck was coming towards them, too fast, and on the wrong side of the road. Getting nearer and nearer, its bright headlights making them squint.

She gasped.

The hand moved again, and arm, stretched and came in front of her face to protect her. Their eyes met for a last moment, wide, scared, filled with dread and words that hadn't been said and...

The light was all over and didn't stop. Their hands gripped tight.

They crashed.


End file.
